Random Idiocy 3: Nemesis
by DarkGidora
Summary: My RE3 novelization. We go behind the scenes, to see how Mikhail got injured, the family values of giant worms, how you should react to crazy women named Alice, and how Hunk's mission usually is impeded by head trauma. Read and Review please.
1. The beginning of the end

Disclaimer: Resident Evil, and all associated characters and locales belong to Capcom.

* * *

RANDOM EVIL 3: NEMESIS 

September 28th, 1998:

Jill Valentine began her day unlike those that came before it. Because she was planning to escape from a Zombie infested Midwestern city in the middle of Fall, she decided to first dress up in a tube top and miniskirt that would definitely provided adequate protection against a Midwestern City's normally brisk fall climate. Also, Jill predicted that the exposed neckline and lack of clothing beyond the kneecap would provide excellent protection against a flesh eating undead. If this doesn't hint as to the intelligence of our hero, her tendency to narrate what the hell was about to go down would do that adequately.

" It all began as an ordinary day in September. An ordinary day in Raccoon City. A city controlled by Umbrella, . No one dared to oppose them. That lack of strength would ultimately lead to their destruction. I suppose they had to suffer the consequences of their actions, but there would be no forgiveness. I mean, if a bunch of S.T.A.R.S. Officers with a reputation of ineptitude warn you that the company that built half of the town was trying to take over the world with a Zombie death virus, it's unreasonable to think that anyone would have a hard time believing them.  
But it's true that once the wheels of justice began to turn, nothing could stop them. Nothing! Except possible a mightly fuckload of zombies. Anyways, It was Raccoon City's last chance...  
And my last chance, my last escape... Of course, maybe I should've gotten the Hell out of Dodge before the dead started walking..."

Yep, that's our survivor. Pretty, tough, and dumb as a rock.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a group of transport helicopters bearing the Umbrella Corporation logo flew in over the burning city.

"Uh, Sir" One Hispanic man with an outrrrrrageous accent asked his superior, a grey haired Russian man.

"Yes, vhat is it, Carlos?" the Commander replied, with an even more poorly acted Russian accent.

"Just wondering, this is a horror game, and most horror movies with a corporation in it usually make the company evil."

"And..."

"Well, I mean, are you sure that we're not evil?".

"Of course. There's no reason to believe that I'm Umbrella's pointman, plotting to betray you all as soon as possible. And there's no reason to believe this whole situation was caused by a poorly-planned Black Ops raid led by a man calling himself Mister Death.".

* * *

MEANWHILE, IN THE RACCOON CITY SEWER SYSTEM...

Special Agent HUNK of Umbrella Black Ops was in a bad mood. It wasn't the fact that he was nearly a week past his mission deadline. It wasn't the fact that he was trapped in the sewer system of a town currently going through Hell. It wasn't even the fact that a mutant Doctor Birkin had kicked his ass and killed all his men. It wasn't the fact that he had lost his sample of the G-Virus.

Nope, the problem on HUNK's mind was simple. _Memo to self; don't bet the other guys at Umbrella HQ that you are able to successfully complete a mission drunk. Man, I owe fucking Jake fifty dollars. Damnit._

_Oh, and yeah, the whole 'being lost in the sewers of a town getting torn apart by zombies because I amazingly fucked up a simple theft' thing is kind of a downer, too._

* * *

BACK WITH NICHOLAI AND CARLOS...

"Uh, okay. Anyways, I trust in you completely, Nicholai.".

"Exxxxxxcelent..." Nicholai said, doing his best C. Montgomery Burns impression. "Anyvays, ve're almost at the drop point.".

Nicholai and Carlos watched as the men in the chopper they were following tossed rappel cables out of their choppers and slid off them... falling to their doom several hundred feet below.

"Ouch." Carlos said.

Sighing, Nicholai turned to his team. "Men. Remember, you should vait until our Helicopter is hovering above a skyscraper before jumping out.".

And so, the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasures Service, minus a few redshirts, disembarked their helicopters on the roof of a high rise office building.

"Damn. Ve've barely begun, and half our cannon fodder is dead already.".

So, the UBCS away team began their historic Operation Mad Jackal. Which mainly involved the principle cast being conveniently away while the rest of the redshirts were ruthlessly torn apart.

Two Umbrella Mercenaries, Obligatory Victim 1 and Obligatory Victim 2 disembarked the building's elevators at the lobby. All of a sudden, the doors to the other elevator opened, and the OV pair was stuck in the middle of a zombie blitzkrieg. Despite the fact that Zombies are only capable of about one half of a sustained mile per hour on foot, and the fact that both OVs were well trained mercs with automatic weapons, they died horribly.

More mercenaries died in similar fashions. One would think a group of three mercenaries would be able to hold their own, especially since one was throwing grenades around like a drunken monkey, but alas, OVs 3, 4, and 5 were tragically cut down as well.

* * *

Meanwhile, as zombies began to murder the poor denizens of Racoon City, the RPD had decided to act. Blocking the highway with patrol cars and a SWAT team van, a group of a dozen or so officers armed with shotguns and Heckler und Koch MP-5 submachine guns did battle with thirty or more zombies.

"Hold the Line!" SWAT Commander Griffon shouted. This was interpreted by his man as 'stand stock still while the dead slowly shamble over to you, akwardly climb over the cars, and refuse to run the Hell away , even when it was hideously apparent that the line wasn't being held.'. So Deadmeat Cops 1-14 fulfilled their one true purpose. Dying horribly to build tension.

Commander Griffon realized his men were perhaps the dumbest people on earth, considering that after five minutes of sustained fire, they failed to stop the thirty or so zombies slowly shuffling towards them, had an epiphany. _Maybe... Maybe that's our lot in life. Maybe humanity is prone to self overestimation and a lack of healthy discretion. Maybe... Oh HOLY FUCK! MY LEGS! They're eating my motherfucking legs! AARRRRRRGGGGGGHH! Wait, why am I thinking "aaaarrrrrrrggggggh" instead of screaming it out? Hmm... maybe that's my lot in life... _Yep, our brilliant SWAT commander was too busy philosophizing to run the fuck away.

And in the reflection on the cracked visor of one of the SWAT team member's helmets, an immense, vaguely human shape was visible...

"S.T.A.R.S." (Translation: Okay, where'd that idiot Vickers go? I saw him standing right next to that one cannon fodder...)

* * *

Meanwhile, back with Jill Valentine, she too was having zombie problems. Of course, considering the fact that the Police and the UBCS were comepletely screwed with all their high powered weapons, armor, and numbers, so one lone woman, dressed for Mardi Gras, holding a 9mm handgun with 15 bullets and a gunpowder mixing tool, would be more or less doomed...

Of course, Jill had her unique way of doing things, compared to other people. So, instead of walking out the front door of her apartment building, her monumental last escape started off with a resounding **BOOM,** as she literally blasted a wall down to escape the evil dead.

And so, she ran. Hopping over a dumpster, she managed to find herself surrounded by ravenous flesh eaters only seconds after starting. Only her quick thinking, and a lot of random violence against a door, saved her. Running down an alleyway and diving through another door, she found herself in... a warehouse.

* * *

"JESUS MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" screamed a voice from the other side of the room.

"Uh, hiya. I'm Jill.".

"Hi. I'm Dario Rosso, amateur novelist. HOLY SHIT WE'RE DOOMED!".

"I think we should get moving. I doubt that there's going to be a rescue." Our heroine said to the disheveled, hobo-ish man across the room. She was beginning to grow tired of his whining already.

"NO FUCKING WAY! THOSE MONSTERS KILLED MY DAUGHTER. I'M STAYING HERE.".

"So, you're barricading yourself in a warehouse...".

"No, actually, I plan on hopping in that trailer over their and praying nobody notices me. Actual barricading would require me to board up this warehouse. Anyways, PRAY FOR A SWIFT AN MERCIFUL DEATH!".

"Uh, it would be safer to follow my idea.". Jill was really getting annoyed.

"And your plan is?".

"We run through this zombie infested city, facing the undead, giant spider, mutant lizard men, and the occasional boss monster while solving several rather inane puzzles." Jill said triumphantly, confident in her plan. Then, realizing how idiotic her plan sounded when laid out in words, she simply said. "Any room in that trailer for me?". Unfortunately, by that time Dario had already locked himself inside.

So, with no where else to go, Jill turned and tried to exit the building through it's second set of doors. Unfortunately it was locked. A quick search of the upper level office turned up a key, ammo, typewriter ink ribbons and a some gun powder. And, as we all know, using a gunpowder mixing tool to make gunpowder is a LOT easier than picking up the prepackaged stuff laying on every dead cop in the city.

So, armed with her new key, she marched downstairs and opened the stubborn locked door. There she met Random Zombie number 1.

"Braaaaiiiinsssssss..." RZ1 said. Of course, seeing as we had previously seen Jill's brilliant tactical strategies, RZ1 thought it over and then decided _Okay, the chick's hot, but seriously. If I want brains, I'll just go to the college or something_. "Urrrrrggggh..." (Translation: Okay, Miss Valentine. I'll leave you for now. But may God help you if I want spleen, I'm coming for you.)

Of course, Jill doesn't exactly speak random zombie moaning, so that's about when she emptied her beretta into RZ1's head. Going to her left, she opened yet another door, continuing through the Raccoon City alleyways. Eventually, she was getting mighty bored of Raccoon City's 90,000 miles of interconnected alleyways, when...

"RUN AWAAAAAAAY!" Brad "Chickenheart" Vickers screamed as he bashed a door down, and ran the Hell away. Behind him, a squad of zombies slowly shambled after.

"Rraaaaaahhhh..." RZ2 said. (Translation: Aw, screw this. We ain't gonna catch him like this. We need us some wheels.".)

"Grawww..." RZ3 suggested. (Translation: Hey, I saw wheels back in that alley down there. I think we could catch him on those.).

"Snarllll...". (Translation: Idiot. I fucking told you, we ain't gonna catch no one on a tricycle.)

Growing angry at his buddies' idiocy, Random Zombie 4 simply growled. (Translation: Dudes, there's a hot chick standing five feet away from us pointing a handgun at our heads. Christ, let's just grab her.)

"Raaawwwr." RZ3 argued. (Translation: I dunno, usually people have a habit of, well, y'know, running the hell away when we attack. I'm confident she won't attack us.).

**BLAM!**

"Uuuurrrggghhhh...". (Translation: I stand corrected. Get her!).

Of course, the fact that the zombies were about as spry and nimble as my refrigerator really hurt their plan to capture Jill. Running past the evil dead, she ran down the stairs into the room Brad Vickers was in before he went running away. There she found a corpse of another SWAT team member. Of course, Jill was a cop, so she recognized the dead man.

"Steve? Oh God! Why, Lord, Why did Steve have to die! He was so young!" Jill stopped lamenting her comrade's death when she noticed the shotgun still clutched in his hands. "Yoink!".

The zombie militia finally managed to stumble down the stairs. "Hi there. This is a zombie game, so I do have to make an Bruce Campbell quote here. My name's Jill, and this..." Our heroine said, cocking the shotgun "... is my boomstick!".

"Raaaaaaarrrrrrgggh". (Translation: Aw fuck...)

* * *

And so, the Zombies learned a valuable life's lesson. Shotgun shells to the forehead are a bad thing. And so Jill, alone in a basement full of corpses, searched around the room for anything of use. Did she take the heavy metal crowbar at her feet? No. Did she search Steve's body for extra ammo? No. She eventually picked up an empty cigarette lighter lying on a set of shelves. _Hmm... a lighter with no fuel... Never know when this would be useful..._

Continuing her running, Jill picked up some green herbs after going through the path Brad had rushed through. Passing through even more decrepit alleyways, she found herself on the streets of Uptown Raccoon City, in an area littered with zombies. Of course, Jill realized that if she fought, she might damage her trusty empty cigarette lighter, so she nimbly avoided the zombies on the street, and rushed into the nearest blind alley she could find.

The alley led to the back of the famed Bar Jack, Raccoon City's number one destination for chronic drunks. So naturally, half of the S.T.A.R.S. team was more accustomed to it than they were to there apartments. _If Brad's anywhere, it's here._ Sure enough, she spotted Brad shooting a zombie. The cowardly pilot then decided to run into the bar. Jill followed.

Inside the Bar Jack, Brad ran straight into yet another Random Zombie. After getting his throat chewed on for a bit, he managed to shove the undead horror off of him, and then set about killing the hell out of it.

Once the zombie was dead (redead?) Brad slumped against the counter of the bar, humming the tune of "Coward of the County" while stealing the booze.

"Hiya, Brad." Jill said. That caused Brad to leap up into the air and whip his gun at Jill. Brad had been known for his cowardice on the force, and apparently, as Jill had assumed, during the death of Raccoon City, he spent most of his time wetting himself and screaming.

"WHAT! Oh, it's you Jill. I thought it might've been... him..." Brad said, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Who's coming?".

"He's coming, Jill. He cannot be bargained with. He cannot be reasoned with. He doesn't feel pain, or pity, or remorse. He'll kill us all!".

"Who is 'he'?".

"We're all going to die!".

"Yeah, I kinda got that part, but who is this unreasonable, unfeeling fellow?".

"I-I can't tell y-you." The S.T.A.R.S. chicken said, quickly getting on Jill's nerves.

"Why not?".

"Uh, the scriptwriter was just to lazy too have me say 'Immortal Trenchcoat superzombie', so I just say 'him' or 'he'.".

"What was that?".

"Uh, I can't repeat. Anyways, HE WILL MURDER US! RUN, LEST YE FEEL HIS WRATH!" With that, Brad ran out of the Bar, screaming gibberish.

Sighing, Jill picked up some spare handgun ammo and some lighter fluid in the bar, as well as a postcard of Raccoon's famous Saint Michael's Clock Tower, home of ominous foreshadowing. Anyways, Jill decided that an old, decrepit lighter was cool, but an old, decrepit lighter that actually worked would be even better. So she combined the lighter fluid and the lighter, and voila, she had a working lighter.

* * *

Leaving through the back entrance, Jill continued to murder zombies until she saw a huge group of undead men and women in police uniforms standing behind a barricade. "Oh my god... Tim? And Lucy? And Billy? And Bobby? And Stanislaus? Oh God, why did they have to die! They were so young!". That's roughly when Tim, Lucy, Billy, Bobby, and Stanislaus shoved the barricade over and began lurching towards Jill.

Of course, they failed to remember one of the fundamental gaming rules set down by Donkey Kong and Mario; barrels are amazingly fucking dangerous. As the zombies crowed around an oil drum, Jill just shot it, and Tim, Lucy, Billy, Bobby, and Stanislaus were all rekilled. Walking past the rather large greasy smudge her friends had become, Jill approached a gate, sealed with... an oil soaked rope. I think we all know how it ended. Jill's lighter and the rope met, and soon, there was no more rope holding the gate closed.

And so, Jill continued, past a blazing inferno closing off one of the alley's exits, when all of a sudden, a pair of dogs burst through the conflagration. Noticing it was on fire, Random Cerberus 1 simply said "Arf! Arf!". (I guess you can call me a 'hot dog'.).

Deciding the other dog's pun was horrible, Random Cerberus 2 proceeded to leap at him. Of course, Jill was content to merely let the two zombie dogs murder each other. Walking through the other exit of the alley, on to another one of Raccoon City's streets. Of course, given the fact that ninety percent of her journey had involved running through alleys, she was eager to get back to them. So, running across the street, she tried to open the next creaky metal door, but it was locked. _Just beautiful. Damn, guess I have to go to the police station to pick up my lock pick..._

And so she did. Running down the empty street and past a broken fire hydrant, Jill reached the big gate outside the front entrance to Raccoon City Police HQ. Passing through, she was just about to open the front door when...

"J-Jill!" Brad screamed. "We've gotta...". Unfortunately for Brad, he was cut off by a 9-foot tall, trenchcoat wearing monster dropping out of thin air.

"S.T.A.R.S.". (Heeeeeere's Nemmy!)

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Nemesis equals Moron

Disclaimer: Resident Evil, and all associated characters belong to Capcom.

* * *

As we last left Jill Valentine, her struggle to escape Raccoon City hit a snag when she encounter a locked door. Racing to the police station to get her lock pick, she was startled when Brad, the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team pilot and panicky idiot extraordinaire arrived, followed closely by his 9 foot tall, cycloptic, rotting, trench coat wearing friend. The creature was called Nemesis, though neither Brad nor Jill really gave a damn. 

"Jill… help me!" Brad screamed. It was all for naught, as Nemesis grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up. Slowly raising his right hand, Nemesis finally noticed Jill.

"S.T.A.R.S…" (Oddly enough, this girl seems familiar for some reason…).

"Uh, Jill, you've got a gun… Shoot this monster, a'ight?"

"S.T.A.R.S." (Maybe she's in my flower arranging class… naw. That woman has a smaller rack…).

"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, HELP ME!".

"S.T.A.R.S." (Maybe she's that girl that copied my notes in Chem. class... Wait, that was a Tyrant… damn.)

"DAMNIT JILL, SAVE ME! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, YOU'RE A S.T.A.R.S. OFFICER!"

"S.T.A.R.S.!" (Would you just shut up? I can't think with you screaming!). Therefore, Nemesis raised his hand again, and a tentacle shot out, impaling Brad's… kneecap.

"Ow! My knee!"

"S.T.A.R.S." (Whoops. Let's try this again.).

"Good lord, my shoulder! My beautiful shoulder!"

"S.T.A.R.S.!" (Okay, getting embarrassing here…).

And after his third attempt, Brad screamed in an amazingly high voice "My nuts!". And Nemmy, and even Jill, who was, in fact, a woman, shuddered.

"S.T.A.R.S.". (Damn it to hell! Couldn't those scientists grow an extra eye on a lab rat for me? Yeah, I know the whole 'row of surgical staples' thing is scary, but I'm a gigantic, pointy-toothed, lipless animated corpse in leather! I don't need the intimidation factor! I need fucking depth perception!)

Eventually, Nemesis got the 'Impale Brad through the face with a tentacle' thing right, and he dramatically dropped the body. Turning towards Jill, he once again said his catchphrase, this time meaning _'Damnit. I can't remember who you are… sorry about this. I'm normally pretty good at this sort of thing. I know who you are, it's on the tip of my tongue…'_

"Oh my god, you killed Brad! One of my team mates in S.T.A.R.S.!". Then, noticing Nemesis's disability, she decided to come up with a cruel nickname for him. "I think I'll call you Blinky…".

"S.T.A.R.S." (I'm sorry about the name thing, but don't make fun of me, lady. I'm busy on a mission to kill all S.T.A.R.S. officers.). Slowly, the synapses in Nemmy's brain deduced things for him.

* * *

_FLASHBACK TO BEFORE NEMESIS CAME TO RACCOON…_

"_Okay Nemesis..." The crazy mad doctor had said… "I am sending you to kill all of the remaining S.T.A.R.S. members. They are, Brad Vickers, their Aquaman-type useless bastard, Rebecca Chambers, the girl who can fluctuate between super badass when teamed with a convicted murderer to damsel-in-distress in any other situation, Barry Burton, the man with bad puns and a big fricken handgun, Chris Redfield, the R.P.D.'s resident drunk/hero/stupid sonuva bitch, and Jill Valentine, who makes good sandwiches. I repeat. Jill Valentine… Jill Valentine… Got it? Jill Valentine.

* * *

_

_FLASHBACK TO TWO MINUTES AGO…_

"_JESUS FUCKING CHRIST JILL, YOU'RE A S.T.A.R.S. MEMBER!"._

_

* * *

FLASHBACK TO THIRTY SECONDS AGO… _

"_Oh my God, you killed Brad! One of my team mates in S.T.A.R.S.!".__

* * *

END OF OBLIGATORY FLASHBACKS... _

"S.T.A.R.S." (Aw damn, I just looked like an idiot. Anyways, DIE JILL!). Of course, in the half hour he'd been recollecting his mission, Jill had been shooting him with a handgun. He wasn't exactly bright enough to notice. And so, he fell to the ground. Quickly, and in a shameless reoccurring theme in my works, she ran over to Brad and stole his wallet.

"Wow. One giant superzombie dead, and I didn't even need a rocket launcher…". That was promptly when Nemesis got to his feet. And so Jill thought _Okay, shut up next time._

Jill could've shown her great courage by facing off against the undead behemoth, but hell, she may have been stupid, but not THAT stupid. So she ran inside the police station. Through the doors marked "PULL". So, Nemesis immediately pursued, trying his darnedest to push those doors open. And despite the fact that they were wooden, and he had muscles in his arm bigger than a family sedan, he was unable to force them open.

The Raccoon City Police Station was obviously designed by either a Bond Villain or an Autistic, though the two are so similar a distinction is hard to make. Well, actually, that's too general. The entire city was just as large a collection of anti-ergonomic design as possible. The city council had spent a fortune making sure that the place had as many asinine statues and idiot puzzles as they could, just because they were bastards. Jill walked forward to a nearby computer and logged on, immediately finding a memo left by Chief Brian Irons, world-class Mario impersonator.

_

* * *

Dear S.T.A.R.S. Members, _

_I regret to inform you that due to the city being overrun with zombies, I have decided to keep the key to the S.T.A.R.S. Room locked in the evidence locker, combination 1-2-3-4. It's not that I'm stabbing you bastards in the back as I right this, honest. I'm completely, one hundred percent trustworthy._

_Burn in Hell,_

_Chief B. Irons.

* * *

_

Mentally taking note of the combination, Jill turned and walked into the main section of the police station. Zombie cops greeted her past the destroyed barricade. After killing them (and lamenting their deaths), Jill continued, stopping at the open door of the office of Marvin Branagh, world-class Will Smith look-alike. And she saw the fallen body of yet another comrade, clutching a memo in his hand.

"Marvin? Oh my God! No…".

"Uh, Jill, I'm still alive. A little help here?".

"What's this memo?" Jill asked, as she picked up his the file of Marvin's last case.

_

* * *

September 24th, 1998 _

_I, Marvin Branagh have been tasked to investigate a case of vandalism. Apparently, someone broke the antique jewel clock/gate locking mechanism in outside of City Hall. Two jewels were stolen. I tried very hard to care, but was unable to do so._

_September 28th, 1998. _

Apparently, the owner of that restaurant downtown was the jewel thief. I still don't give a damn, considering the massive zombie outbreak and all, but anyways, he apparently took shelter here when the zombies attacked. Unfortunately, as it turns out, we were wrong. He actually happened to be a zombie. Isn't that hilarious? Anyways, we shot the stupid S.O.B. and then stole his wallet. And the jewel, but nobody gives a damn.

* * *

Looking down at her fallen comrade, Jill could only sigh. "Marvin, you may be gone, but the gemstone clock caper might turn up later in my escape. You're memo may have saved me. Thank you.". With that, she turned and walked away. 

"Jill? I'm still alive, only very badly injured. Jill? JILL!".

"-Sigh- I can still hear your voice Marvin, giving me advice.".

"Idiot!".

And so Jill entered the evidence room. After pocketing the S.T.A.R.S. key and the jewel, she carried forward, killing more zombies. Entering the police station darkroom, she spotted a memo left by David, another police officer.

_

* * *

September 27th, 1998. _

_Dear Diary,_

_Today my friends were all slaughtered by zombies. Except Mossberg, he's still helping me out. Mossberg is such a nice shotgun. I like shooting things. My doctor is dead now, so I can't get my medication. Isn't that hilarious?_

_Anyways, I've got to go. The other cops are arguing and saying rude things, and Mossberg is telling me to kill myself. Bye-bye.

* * *

_

So, pocketing the memo left by the one member of the R.P.D. dumber than Wesker's hand-picked S.T.A.R.S. team, Jill picked up more ammo and gunpowder, as well as a typewriter ink ribbon, because, as we all know, you can't escape zombie apocalypses without the help of writing devices that were out of date long before1998.

Exiting the darkroom, Jill climbed the stair, walked down the hall, and using the key, entered the S.T.A.R.S. office. Despite the fact that, until recently, there had been 10 S.T.A.R.S. Members, there were only 5 desks. Jill remembered how she parted from her team mates as she walked past their desks.

* * *

REBECCA CHAMBERS'S DESK 

"_Uh, hi Jill." Rebecca said nervously._

"_Hi Rebecca, what's up?" Jill said to the only other female in S.T.A.R.S._

"_Uh, nothing…"._

"_Why are you packing up everything on you're desk?"_

"_Uh, no reason.". _

"C'mon, tell me.".

"_I THINK THIS CITY'S GOING TO GO TO HELL IN AN EVIL ZOMBIE DEATH VIRUS OUTBREAK!".

* * *

_

BARRY BURTON'S DESK 

"_Hi Jill."._

"_Uh, Barry, I hear you're leaving."._

"_Yeah, I want to spend some time with my family, outside of a town that's going to go to hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak."._

"_Huh? I didn't know you had a family."._

"_What! Remember, I betrayed you all to save them. Here's the picture." The resident gun nut of S.T.A.R.S. said, opening his wallet and showing Jill his family portrait._

"_Oh, I thought you were just a crazy old man and that picture was just the one that came with the wallet."._

"_I'm in the picture, you twit!" Barry said, regretting his decision to not let Wesker ventilate her forehead._

"_I thought you did wallet picture modeling on the side." Jill said, holding up her hands to calm him down.

* * *

_

CHRIS REDFIELD'S DESK 

"_Hi Jill, I'm leaving."._

"_Let me guess, something about this town going to hell in a evil zombie death virus outbreak?"._

"_Yup. I'm going to Europe. Promise me you won't cheat on me with a slightly idiotic Hispanic Umbrella traitor who has zero backstory but doesn't spend an entire game in a jail cell, like I did, okay?"._

"_Uh, I don't think you have to worry. Chances of me meeting a person like that are, like a million to one. It's almost as unlikely as Wesker coming back from the dead as a matrix ripoff super bioweapon.".

* * *

_

JILL VALENTINE'S DESK 

"_Okay, everybody's full of crap. This town will not go to hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak." Jill assured herself. Brad overheard this, and canceled his plans to leave the city.

* * *

_

"Okay, I was wrong about that one." Jill admitted. And then she got to…

ALBERT WESKER'S DESK

"_Jill, Barry. Most impressive. But you two will die now!" Wesker yelled. Despite the pain he had from the magnum bullet wound he received, he hit a button on the nearby control panel, causing the liquid to drain from the tube containing the giant, humanoid monster, the Tyrant._

_Inside the tube, the Tyrant began to awaken, it's external heart beating and it's eyes opening in it's skull-like face. Swinging his normal, human hand twice, he cracked the glass encasing him. Then, with a mighty slash from his clawed right hand, the glass exploded outward. Jumping down to the laboratory floor, the Tyrant began advancing._

"_Rrraaaaaaaaaaawwrrr…" (Thank God. I never thought I'd be free.). Noticing Jill and Barry, Tyrant continued. "Graaaaaar…" (I believe I am forever indebted to you two. Without your interference, I fear that I may never have been let out. I thank you.)._

"_Now, Tyrant," Wesker said. "Kill them!"._

"_Grraarr". (You… you… monster! You merciless vile fiend! You did this to me! You and those other scientists! I cannot abide your continued existence, murderer!). And so, Tyrant put his huge hand claw to good use, skewering Wesker like a fish. Barry rushed at the creature, his gun raised. Tyrant tried to high-five Barry, but of course, the whole '10-foot-tall, amazingly destructive bioweapon' thing came into play, and Barry was knocked unconscious. _

"_Snarl Hiss!". (I must apologize, friend. I am very sorry, I do not know my own strength. After what Umbrella has done to me, I fear I may never lead a normal life. Please except my forgiveness…). That's roughly when Jill emptied a magnum into his head._

* * *

3 MINUTES AND 30 SECONDS AFTER THAT… 

"_Wow, Jill, Barry, Rebecca, I'm glad we escaped this mansion." Chris said on the heliport of the Arklay Mountain Facility, waiting for Brad to pick them up. _

"Yeah, and that creepy superzombie thing was killed. Who know's what would happen if it escaped?" Jill added.

_Suddenly, the ground shook, and then Tyrant burst his way through the concrete. "Raaaaawwwwwwwwrr…" (I must admit, your custom with the large handguns is quite painful, however, I feel we can still work things out.) Tyrant said, holding his arms out to signify peace. Unfortunately, his super-strength and lack of attention caused him to knock Chris out._

"_Oh my God! A monster!" Brad screamed from inside his helicopter. Thinking quickly, he tossed a M66 rocket launcher out of the chopper. It may seem silly that a search and rescue police unit would come equipped with a anti-tank missle launcher, but hey, that's life. _

"Growwlll…" (Jill, I do believe that the rocket launcher would prove fatal, even for me. I ask that you put it down, my friend.).

_**BOOOOOOOM!

* * *

**_

And so, Jill, after finishing reminiscing, went to her desk to pick up her lock pick. Inside, she found a two paper clips and a note.

_

* * *

Dear Jill, _

_I lost my house key yesterday :-( , so I borrowed your professional-style lock pick without your consent. Sorry. Anyways, I will be leaving town and won't be able to return it, so I left you a pair of paper clips instead. Thanks for your help._

_You're friend,_

_Rebecca Chambers .

* * *

_

"Rotten bitch." Jill muttered. Of course, Jill was a big fan of MacGuyver, so she still managed to jury-rig a lock pick out of the materials. Then she went to the S.T.A.R.S. gun locker and picked up a high caliber magnum revolver, just the thing any tactical police officer needs when on a mission. Because so many hostage takers are big game animals needing a .357 bullet to take down.

Anyways, on her way out, the broken down radio in the S.T.A.R.S. office came to life.

"Hello, this is Carlos. Need assistance! -zzzzzt- Zombies everywhere! Send help! This town's going to hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak! Oh my God, they aren't dying! I'm shooting them but they aren't dying! Save us! -zzzzzt- Wait, they are apparently dying if I shoot them enough. Anyways, help us!".

"That man appears to be in trouble…" Jill trenchantly observed. And so, she exited the S.T.A.R.S. office and climbed down the stairs, hearing glass cracking as she did so. And just as she passed the convenient 8-foot window at the bottom of the staircase…

**CRASH!**

Nemesis had finally found a way in. "S.T.A.R.S!" (Ow, glass cut! Glass cut! OW!". Spotting Jill he raised his left arm, which now had a rather large missle launcher strapped on to it. Raising his arm, he pulled the trigger, and…

Click.

One "S.T.A.R.S." (What the FUCK!) later, Nemesis realized he forgot to bring along ammo. And so, he hopped back from whence he came, vowing to track down Jill when he had ammo.

"That was… interesting…" Jill said as she left the police station, not noticing that both Marvin's 'corpse' and the real corpse of Brad had apparently gotten up and walked away. She reached the stubborn locked door, used her lock pick, and viola, she was now in downtown Raccoon City.

* * *

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER: We take you behind the scenes, to answer the question, "Where the hell was the rest of the cast while Jill was off dealing with Blinky the retarded superzombie?". 


	3. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Disclaimer: Resident Evil, and all characters thereof are property of Capcom.

* * *

We all know the story of what Jill Valentine was doing in Raccoon City during the T-Virus incident, but I ask, what. What were the other characters doing while Raccoon was going to hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak? 

So now, it is with great honor, that I bring you the first part of that answer. The tale of…

**The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly…**

"Nicholai!" A UBCS member wearing a long sleeved red shirt yelled.

"Yes, vhat is it Ensign Ricky?" Nicholai sighed, placing his hand on his forehead. Nicholai had hand-picked his cannon fodder to ensure no one stood a chance of finding out his horrible secret, but Hell, it was annoying talking to them.

"I do believe that the entire city is drunk!".

"Urrrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhh…" Cried a bunch more zombies. (Delicious mercenaries. Mmmmmmmmmm…).

"Vell then, make ze people zome coffee.".

"Uh, Nich?" Said our Hispanic friend.

"Vhat?".

"Uh, I think ensign Ricky is an idiot. Their rotting skin, that blank stare they have, their unintelligible moaning. Nicholai, I think we just arrived at a comic book convention…".

"Or ze could be zombies.".

"How do we tell?".

Pondering the best course of action to determine the specific variety of the herd of shambling idiot beasts, Nicholai yelled."Hey kids! Look over zere, it's Jar Jar Binks!".

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwww…". (Delicious Mercenaries…).

"Hmmm… nope, not a zingle comment about how the originals were better zen ze prequels… must be zombies…".

"Ah. So. We run now, right?".

"Yep.".

And so, with a shout of "Run Away!", Carlos, Nicholai, and a few extra cannon fodder easily escaped the zombies. Unfortunately for them, they forgot to warn Ensign Ricky.

"Oh, hi guys…" Our hapless Umbrella flunky said, holding out a pitcher of coffee. "Who wants some-arrrrrrgggghhhhhh my arms! Jesus Christ on a moped! Owwwwww!".

So, as the helpless man was torn apart by the ravaging undead, Oliveira, Ginovaef, and friends had escaped. "So, sir, whaddaya think we should do now?" Carlos said, hefting his assault rifle.

"I say ve split up. You, Ensign Jimmy, and Murphy go down zat dark, foreboding alleyway vere creepy moaning is coming from, and I'll take ze rest of ze cannon fodder down zat well lit city street.".

"Sounds like a plan." Obviously, Carlos was striving to win the gold in the total idiot category, even with stiff competition like Chris Redfield, Albert Wesker, Secret Agent HUNK, and Blinky the superzombie.

Of course, he was commanded by a guy who runs into a town that he knows is zombie infested, but goes in with just a nine millimeter handgunand a knife. Yeah, I'm gonna have to say Nicholai was the odds-on favorite for that award.

Carlos and his cannon fodder soon ran into a crazy-looking, wild eyed woman. "Hello." Carlos half said, half asked. "Who are you?".

The woman stared at him for a while, then opened her mouth "My name is Alice. I remember everything.".

"O-kaaaaaaaaaay…". Turning to Ensign Jimmy, he whispered "Either she's stoned or in shock. Watch a master at charming women work his magic.". He returned his glance to Alice, and said "Listen, we're with the Umbrella Corporation, we're hear to help you civilians…".

**-wumph!-**

Obviously, saying the word "Umbrella" to an insane chick in skimpy clothes will get you a kick to the crotch. As Carlos was doubled over, Alice hopped over him and proceeded to run.

"Uh, Corporal Oliveira?" Ensign Jimmy asked.

"Yeah?".

"Should we have tried to stop her?".

"Stopping someone who just nailed your superior officer in his groin is usually standard operating procedure. God. I hope I'm not the last of the Oliveiras.".

"So we shouldn't have let her run down the street?".

"No.".

"Whoops.".

Eventually Carlos managed to pick himself up and he and his men headed off in the general direction of Alice. She was busy punching random zombies in the face.

"Grrrrrraaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwww…" RZ 32 stated. (She's punching me.)

"Raaawwwrrrrrr…" RZ 99 moaned. (Quit whining. Doesn't it take like, what, half a clip of handgun ammo to kill us? What's she trying to do? I mean, if the best control of our motor functions is 'idiot shambling', I think she'd figure we lack the nervous system necessary to be hurt by kung fu.).

"Brrrraaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiinssssssssssss…" RZ 8492 gurgled. (Shut up. I knew I shouldn't have zombified a med school student. Stupid smart guy. Anyways, I find this kinda funny. Man, kung fu on zombies. What next, is she gonna try and kick Nemmy's ass? I'd pay to see that fight.).

**BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!**

"Uurrrggggh…" (Fucking mercenaries… mmmmmm… mercenaries).

And so, after saving Alice from dying like a complete ass, Carlos and his team of cannon fodder proceeded to watch her try and run up a wall, fail and then ackwardly leap over a fence.

"Okay… so, a crazy girl, dressed in the fashion of a prostitute, trying to kill zombies with kung fu. What a stupid idea…". That was approximately when a mighty fuckload of zombies, lead by Undead Ensign Ricky, shambled toward the trio.

"Raaaawwwwgggghh…" (Hey guys, I think as a zombie, I could organize some sort of peace agreement between my undead brethren and my old Umbrella warbuddies.).

"Run the fuck away, man!" Murphy yelled, and the trio proceeded to run off in three different directions.

"Grrrrrr…" (I'm so lonely…)

Separated from the group, Carlos eventually stopped by the famous Raccoon City cable car, where he made his historic 'We're all fucked.' speech over his radio.

* * *

**The tale of Ensign Jimmy…**

"Wow, I can't believe how lucky I am to have escaped those zombies." Ensign Jimmy stated, walking down the street, looking back towards the now far behind mob of the undead. Unfortunately, because he wasn't looking where he was going, he walked right over an open manhole.

Ten feet below him, Special Agent Hunk had nearly reached the ladder leading up… out of the sewers. _Freedom._ _I can finally get the Hell out of this town, and to a place with beer…_Then, he realized that there was a problem with his escape plan. _Aw fuck, I lost that G-virus. Man, those bastards'll kill me if I come back empty handed. _So, as he was paused at the ladder, planning to retrace his steps to get another G-Virus sample in order to avoid a .45 caliber seal of disapproval from his bosses, a cannon fodder mercenary fell on top of him. And so, RE's Boba Fett type masked guy and all around rogue was unconscious, yet again.

Not noticing he had just landed on top of a fully armored Umbrella Soldier literally festooned with ammo, herbs, and guns, Ensign Jimmy got up to his feet, shook himself off, and investigate the tunnels.

"Oooooh… aw, what a cute little eel. I think I'll name you Eugene." Ensign Jimmy said, holding a sliding worm he found up by the tail.

Sliding worm 1, already angry because **she** was the suckiest enemy in the game next to crows, was pissed off at being called a boy's name, and viciously tried to snap at Jimmy.

"Bad Eugene! Don't make me lay the smack down!".

"Skrrreeeeeeeeeeee!" (Daddy! This guy's being mean to me!).

Obviously, what is a pathetic little worm's father? A big fucking gigantic, gargantuan worm. And so, a giant invertebrate named Gravedigger burst through the wall, looking mighty angry. Yeah, he might not have paid child support, but if you messed with one of his hundreds of children, yeah, you were fucked.

"SSSSSSSSKKRAAAAAAAAARRRRR!" (Put my daughter down...)

"Holy Crap!". Thinking a sacrifice would placate the beast, Ensign Jimmy threw Sliding worm 1 into the gaping maw of razor sharp teeth, skewering the poor little bugger.

"Skr-ee –death gurgle-?" (Da-ddy? -death gurgle-) Sliding Worm 1 shrieked, and then all was still. Gravedigger was just standing there, not able to move after what just happened. Thinking his plan had worked, Ensign Jimmy decided that Gravedigger must've been some sort of God.

"All Hail Wormulon! Lord of… uh burrowing in sewers and killing and eating smaller worms!". Obviously, that snapped Gravedigger out of his stupor.

"SSSSSSSSSSKKKKKKAAAAAAAARRRR!" (Jenny? OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE?). Bringing his full attention to Ensign Jimmy, the visible upset Gravedigger "SSSSSSSKKKKKKKKRRAAAAARRRR!"ed once again. (You. Stupid. Mother. Fucker.).

And thus, Ensign Jimmy was torn apart by the hellish rows of teeth. And there was much rejoicing.

* * *

**The tale of Murphy Seeker…**

Shall be revealed later, as it is long and contains big words, like "Conflagration" and "Motherfucker".

* * *

**Back at the cable car, with Señor Zorro… er, Carlos…**

"Jesus Christ, zombies everywhere… must shoot them…" Carlos muttered, looking at the hordes of the undead shambling towards him. Yep, he was going crazy.

"In Soviet Russia, Zombies shoot you!" Yet another hilariously overacted Russian Voice said.

"Who the Hell are you?" Carlos demanded.

"I am Mikhail! I am with Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasures Service.".

"Really? So am I! What're the chances?"

"Da, Comrade. My entire squad was viped out.".

"Man, that's quite a coincidence. That's pretty much my story.".

"Rwaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr!" (Mmm… mercenaries…)

"Would you please shut up! Man, try to hold a conversation, and nobody can leave you alone.".

"Vell yeah… anyways, that zombie's interruption reminds me, this city kinda has a problem with going to hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak.".

"Yeah, I know.".

"And knowink is half the battle.".

"I never knew they showed GI Joe in Russia.".

"Eh… anyways, I think I know vat the other half of the battle is.".

"Unadulterated violence?".

"Da.".

"Raaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwrrrrr…" (Aw fuck…)

**BOOM!  
BLAM!  
EXPLOSION/GUNFIRE NOISE!  
**

"You'd think we'd have a harder time beating them with our assault rifles, right? I mean, the entire police force and about 90 percent of the Umbrella mercs are dead.".

"Eh, I take what I can get and don't question the game designer's plans."

"Yeah, but I think Nicholai should be heading this way. He probably heard my radio transmission. He's got a lot of guys following him, so with them we shouldn't have any problems.".

Five minutes later, Nicholai Ginovaef arrived, alone, his uniform smelling slightly of burned-down university.

"Nicholai, where is everyone?".

"Uh, I definitely didn't use them as human shields while I stole the blood of a prototype giant monster bioweapon, shot said bioweapon's creator, and then blew up the university it was created at. Er, I mean, they all fell down a bottomless pit.".

"A bottomless pit?".

"Yes, Carlos. Zis is a videogame. Zere are bottomless pits everyvere. Vait… who's the chubby guy with the funny hat?".

"My name is Mikhail Victor. Tell me comrade, you from Russia?".

"Yes, Moscow. You?"

"Saint Petersburg. USSR for life, man.".

"Vord.".

That's approximately when a burning sign saying "Raccoon City University" fell from the sky and landed on Mikhail.

"Dude, that has to suck.".

"I'm not dead yet.".

"You get to a city sent to Hell in an evil zombie death virus outbreak, and you are mortally vounded vhen a sign, from a University I swear I didn't blow up, falls on top of you. Mikhail, ven you are gone, ve vill miss you.".

"Listen, you stupid fucking assholes! I'm only slightly injured. I am not going die!".

So, after dragging the Ugly to the tram and placing him on a seat, the Good and the Bad decided on their next move.

"I think we should try to find other survivors, sir. I mean, there has to be at least a few civilians left.".

"You know vhat, Carlos? You are absolutely correct. YOU should try to find other survivors.".

"Uh, Nicholai, don't you think we'd have a better chance of surviving if we went together? I mean, it's not like I can take on an entire city full of zombies.".

"You dare question me! Vhen I vas in ze KGB, if ve got our commander's coffee wrong, ve vere shot after a lengthy show trial for treason! Filthy capitalist pig!".

"Uh, sir, we are working for a capitalist enterprise, the Umbrella corporation…".

"Just fucking leave already!".

"Asshole." Carlos muttered as he walked away. _God, Nicholai. What an idiot. Let's recap. Trapped in a city with a crazy injured Russian, a crazy Evil Russian, a crazy chick in skimpy clothes, and a hell of a lot of zombies. This sucks._

_Then again, there was a chick in skimpy clothes…_

…_Who was totally fucking insane…_

…_Ah well, time to search for survivors. Who knows, maybe I'll run into a scantily clad, hot chick who isn't a complete idiot…_

Of course, next chapter he and Jill meet. Eh, two outta three ain't bad.


End file.
